


Confirmation

by SerenePhenix



Series: Sensitive Re-Collection and Tales of a lonely Wanderer [8]
Category: Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-02
Updated: 2013-02-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 20:36:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/666241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SerenePhenix/pseuds/SerenePhenix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It just left North puzzled. That lack of communication between MiM and the youg winter elf. Why was it just that it always seemed like a dream that he had spoken to the boy for the first and last time over three hundered years ago? None of them held the answer but maybe a book or two could help...</p><p>Sixth part of the Sensitive Re-Collection series.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confirmation

Confirmation

Jack knew that he was here out of curiosity and it was highly unusual for him. The candles in the room cast a soft shine on the yellow pages of the old leather bound book that looked as though it was about to turn to dust if he so much as touched it the wrong way. Cautiously he turned over the page, wincing slightly when his touch made a little frost appear at the edge of the paper. Getting the book wet wouldn’t do it any good but he still wanted to know so badly what secrets were hidden inside it.

Jack almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a yeti waddle down the corridor with heavy footsteps. He held his breath until he was sure he was alone again. He grew a violent shade of violet as he blushed in anger and embarrassment. The worst was he didn’t even know why he was so adamant to keep it a secret that he was currently pilfering through books as old as the Man in the Moon was supposed to be.

Exhaling silently he went back to work, scrutinizing the oddly shaped words that looked like handwriting. Unable to decipher that bloody scrawl, he slammed the book shut with more force than he had intended to. He jerked, eyes closed as though he was expecting the ceiling to come down on his head but when nothing of the sort happened he opened them slowly and relaxed somewhat.

Annoyed he heaved the huge volume, at least fifteen inches thick, with both his arms and tried his best to reach the ladder next to the bookshelves reaching just under the ceiling. If this book were to fall on the floor Jack wasn’t sure if he wouldn’t set off an avalanche by accident. This book was way too heavy for its own good!

With a grunt he took the first step of the ladder, holding onto it with one hand while the other quivered violently under the book’s weight. Slowly he continued his ascent, his arm beginning to burn from the effort of not letting that stupid book slip out of his grasp.

With what felt like the last of his strength he managed to get to the last step, reach over to the left side and push the book back to its designated place. Wiping his forehead for sweat that wasn’t there (his skin was way too cold for that) he wanted to turn around and look for another tome that might be more helpful… when he slipped.

Jack gasped as gravity took a hold of him, too quick for him to realize and tumbled towards the hard wooden floor. But instead of the old oak connecting with the back of his head he felt something firm but soft catch him. Surprised he looked up to see what it was and froze, eyes wide and mouth opened in a perfect o-shape.

The person chuckled delightedly and set him back down on his feet, ruffling his hair affectionately, and the blush that had been gone returned full force. Really, after nearly twenty-five years he would have thought that he would drop that habit of making him feel like some child. But in all honesty, he really didn’t want it any other way, so he kept his mouth shut and appreciated the gesture.

“I see you have looked up a lots of me books.”, North chuckled merrily, looking at the books strewn out all over the floor of his library. Jack couldn’t help but duck his head in self-consciousness at what mess he had created in less than an hour. But the Russian just gave him one of those big smiles again and inspected the book that now rested on the shelves.

His eyes shone in quiet amusement as he summed up what Jack had discovered a few minutes ago: “You never had chance deciphering that. Ombric was wise man but write properly he could not. Even Katherine complained.”

Jack scratched his head absentmindedly, grabbing his staff he had discarded somewhere near to the book-rest, adorned with the story of North’s first battle against the Nightmare King, Pitch.

“Yeah, it was illegible. I never thought…”, he stopped in his circling the room and looked at North with some sort of surprise, “Wait, you weren’t the one who wrote these books?”

North’s blue eyes grew as big as on the day when he had told Jack about his own center, comically bulging before he guffawed, holding his belly and confusing Jack to no end with his actions. Jack made himself smaller, still holding onto that hope that apart from North no one else would come barging in. He still couldn’t figure out how the bulky man had managed to approach him without him noticing nut he guessed that North just had a lot of practice with delivering gifts to sleeping children, who could wake up from every little sound. Although, that one evening when they had visited Jamie’s room, wasn’t by far his best performance at stealth. Not that Jack would dare to voice that out loud.

It took the Spirit of Christmas a while until he had calmed down but once he did, and after wiping away a few stray tears in the corners of his eyes, he explained: “I have written no book in here, Jack. They all are present from Ombric.”

Feeling that this was going to be interesting and having had enough with his fruitless search, Jack swung onto the crook of his staff and made himself comfortable. If there was something he did enjoy greatly, even after all these years spent with the other Guardians, it was listening to the stories they had to tell and this one he did not know yet.

“Who’s Ombric?”, he asked a smirk on his face.

North bent down retrieving the books on the floor and putting them back on the shelves. Jack’s grin turned from sly to sheepish at the action, feeling that he should be the one to take care of it but he was comfortable right now and North did not seem to mind, so Jack stayed where he was stifling a yawn and ignoring how tired he actually was.

“Ombric was my teacher.”, North replied, a distant but definitely happy look on his face as his hand stroked the back of the last, small book he had put back in place, “He was very sage man, indeed. The last survivor of Atlantis.”

Jack, who had had his head propped on his crossed arms, suddenly perked up.

“You mean the ancient myth? But, but I thought it was just something people made up! So it’s real?”

The excitement on his face amused North more than the way the question had been asked.

“Oh, real it was, Jack. Just like us. But the city is lost now, with its knowledge. Ombric was the last left to write down its history and achievements.”

He pointed a finger at the heavy book that had put the boy in so much trouble.

“What you were holding, is possibly the last proof of its existence.”

Jack paled, staring at him like he’d been slapped. Now the prospect of letting the book fall and causing an avalanche wasn’t as scary as the prospect of reducing something so unique to dust. He gulped heavily and again North laughed at him. Peeved he shot the older man a glare but it just seemed to bounce off of him.

“You do not worry.”, North gave him a friendly wink and studied every title of every book the boy had withdrawn from the shelves, “But tell me, Jack, what is it that you were looking for?”

Suddenly the atmosphere grew tense and the boy’s blue eyes grew a bit more distant. North knew that look and he had come to like it not one bit. It always made evident that the boy had some sort of issue on his mind, be it a big or a small one, and it always took away that smile that was so typically Jack. And a Jack that was not smiling was something that he simply could not stand to see.

Jack unconsciously hugged his chest and looked at the glass window full of pictures of children playing in the snow and running around. It was only thanks to the gentle rays of the moon that he could admire this sort of craftsmanship in the dead of night.

He sighed, looking at North with eyes pleading for understanding: “I wanted confirmation.”

Unable to follow, North just cocked his head, eyes questioning. Jack bit his bottom lip, hesitating to go on. What he was going say, would probably sound outrageous to the Guardian of wonder but after two and a half decades Jack was fairly sure that any of them would understand his concerns.

“I wanted to see if you know; if MiM was truly there.”, he jerked his head towards the bright window, cursing himself for not knowing how to voice the sheer amount of questions running rampant in his mind.

At North’s incredulous look he instinctively shook his head and went on before the other could cut him off: “I know that sounds crazy. It’s just… it’s been twenty-five years, North. Not counting the other three hundred years that he never talked to me. It just makes me wonder sometimes, if he’s really there or if I did only imagine all these things.”

He paused, composing himself but the hurt and disappointment still stung. He could feel tears in the corners of his eyes, although he knew that they were pointless. It wasn’t even that he was upset or miserable but that uncertainty was just eating away at him slowly. It just seemed he had held it in for too long and that it simply needed to get out.

“I _know_ he’s there, I _know_ he’s saved me, I _know_ that he once talked to me but still… That was so long ago and I don’t know, maybe I was expecting too much but I had hoped that by any chance…”

He broke off, unable to continue without letting it all out at once and he did not want that. He did not want to cry over something so silly in front of his friend.

North just looked at the man in front of him and thought back at the times that Manny had addressed him, the one time he had even seen the man nearly in person and he guessed that maybe if not entirely, he still could understand a little bit of the disappointment and helplessness the young Guardian felt.

Slowly he dragged a chair next to the place where Jack had his staff planted and sat down. Jack eyed him curiously and waited what the other was going to do.

“You know, these books are not very entertaining. If you want, I can tell you story.”, North offered, cheer in his voice.

He would not tell Jack any pretty lies. He and the other Guardians also had noticed MiM’s lack of communication with Jack, also wondering if something was amiss between the two but it did not add up with the concern MiM ocassionally displayed for the boy and they became witness of. He did not know what had MiM not replying to Jack but the least he could now was to distract the winter spirit a little.

Jack smiled at him, expression close to thankful: “Yeah, I’d prefer to hear it from you.”

North’s eyes were bright in the lights of the candles as he copied Jack’s expression: “Then I shall tell you what Ombric used to tell me.”

He motioned towards the lectern and instantly began to tell Jack the beginning of his story: “When I was still young lad and renowned thief, there used to be a village called Santoff Clausen.”

Jack smiled as he caught the hint at maybe how North got his official title but did not interrupt.

“The village had strong magical barrier. Some I used for the Pole but they are not as strong as Ombric’s. Ombric was founder of Santoff Clausen. Strong man, powerful, but very old. He created village for children to live in happily. One day that happiness was threatened. An old evil came back to life.”

Jack held his breath and he had the inkling of an idea what name would come up next. He was not let down.

“The Nightmare King, Pitch Black, had awakened after many, many years of being cast into the shadows.”, North waved his hands in a big gestured to accentuate the dramatical effect, watching Jack, who nodded in response, far too engrossed with the story to notice that he was looking at North like one of those children, who couldn’t hold in their excitement. It made North’s heart burst with affection and relief, glad that his plan was working out.

“Man in Moon knew he needed help and so he sent to me little moonbeam to tell me where Santoff Clausen was. It whispered in my ear, telling me about riches and fortunes that I would never have dreamed of. So I rode off towards north and made way into the village.”

“Once me and my man arrived, there was a beautiful woman. And with her hands she conjured up rubies and other precious stones. My fellow thieves took gems and turned into elves and gnomes.”

“Woah, woah, woah, wait! Are you telling me our little friends are actually old, cursed bandits?”, Jack interrupted, always having wanted to know the origin of the quirky little troublemakers he loved to tease so much. Well, except Phil and Bunnymund that is.

North blinked and suddenly understanding dawned on his features: “Well, yes of course.”

Jack burst into a laughing fit, still managing to balance on his staff to North’s great surprise.

“That’s better than I ever would have imagined.”

North just grinned through his bushy beard: “ It is indeed. As I said when we arrived we were offered jewels but I refused. I had heard scream of children and went further into forest. There was a large tree and an even larger bear was attacking it, scaring children who were hiding inside. I managed to fend off the creature. It was bear that was supposed to protect the village but Pitch controlled him.”

“I was injured but people and wizard helped me get better. I became friends with Katherine, she was first friend I ever had. Ombric taught me magic.”

Once again, Jack’s face lit up as he understood yet another mystery as to how North managed to make his toys but he kept his mouth firmly shut, not wanting to interrupt North yet again. North just talked away happily.

“He told me about Golden Age, when all dreams were possible and people travelled from galaxy to galaxy.”

If Jack’s eyes had been shining before they were now glistening like a bonfire and North found himself pleased with his work.

“It was beautiful time. People lived in peace. But that peace had always been threatened by the Fearlings. They were locked away in prison, far away from the people. One man that was to stand guard until the end of eternity; that man was great hero and General, Kozmotis Pitchiner.”

Jack stared, eyes wide but not in awe but in some sort of silent horror and for the first time in years North wished he was Sandy, who knew better than any of them what was going on in Jack’s head most of the time. Right now, he was clueless, not understanding what had the boy so worked up.

Trying to not make him think too much about it, he went on, but he could feel the troubled feelings coming off of Jack in waves and that was making a bit hard to concentrate on his story-telling but he tried nonetheless.

“Kozmotis Pitchiner had been away from his daughter from a long time when he finally was overwhelmed by his desire to see her again. The Fearlings tempted him and managed to trick the man. They made him believe little daughter was with them. So he set them free to save her but the Fearlings consumed him and Pitch Black was born.”

By now North was not sure if he should just stop altogether. Jack looked positively pale and shaken, something North had not expected to happen. Just what was it that had the boy so appalled? Unable to come up with a different solution North just continued, hoping that eventually that expression would go away. But he proceeded with caution, coming to the conclusion that cutting out the part of the story where Ombric had told about the destruction Pitch left in his wake, would be the best thing to do.

“At the same time there was a family, the Tsar family of Lunanoff. They were good and righteous people and they had a son. Pitch wanted him as Nightmare Prince. So the Lunanoff fled in an aircraft that could turn into a moon, if they need hide.”

Jack followed his gaze towards the window where the moonlight still was visible. Again Jack’s mouth fell open and some of that horror he had had on his face was slowly being replaced by wonder. It made North a little less nervous about the whole issue.

“Still, Pitch found them. They fought long and hard but eventually it was the young Tsar’s bodyguard, Nightlight, who saved them with small diamond dagger. But parents of young Tsar were lost. As years went by, he grew up and watched children from earth. That was when he decided to protect them and began to choose Guardians.”

North knew he had wanted to add some more that there were still things to be told but the few tears sliding down Jack’s face as he looked at the window, no, the rays of moonlights clenched his throat shut. Tear after tear rolled down to his chin and landed on the floor with a soft splash.

The silence dragged on until eventually Jack said: “It must have been lonely.”

North stared at him, got up and opened his arms wide, smiling encouragingly. The boy looked at him, eyes red and puffy and all but threw himself into the embrace the man offered him.

Jack did not whimper or sniffle. Instead he just hugged North until the tears were dried.

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter was by far the longest I had written for the fandom until then and it is the chapter that got the least reactions. Puzzled me a bit but can't change anything about it either...


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